


Improbable, Not Impossible

by Mordukai



Series: The Doctor and the Parallel Universes [3]
Category: Doctor Who (2005), Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy
Genre: Crack Crossover, Crossover, Gen, Post Donna, Sort Of, The TARDIS - Freeform, alcohol use, don't forget your towel, i guess?, i have no idea what's going on here, it's a bit of a clusterfuck tbh, pan galactic gargle blaster, swimming trunks, the Doctor gets a little bit sad, the TARDIS is bad at navigating, the heart of gold
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-22
Updated: 2018-04-22
Packaged: 2019-04-26 07:13:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14396961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mordukai/pseuds/Mordukai
Summary: What would happen if the Doctor met the crew of the Heart of Gold? You've probably never wondered that question, but here you go anyway. Have some comedy with our favourite towel carrying idiots, sad robot friend, and two aliens who enjoy a drink.





	Improbable, Not Impossible

The tenth Doctor rarely ends up where he wants to end up. More often than not, his TARDIS lands somewhere he really wasn't planning on going, but just happens to be infested with aliens. Other times, he just gets lost.

"I wonder... where shall I go?" he asked himself. There was no one with him, because, as usual, he hadn't been able to hold onto his companion. Not that he really minded. It was what was best for Donna, after all.

He did miss her, and he hated having to leave her. That goodbye had been horrible. She hadn't even remembered who he was.

But now he was going to have some 'Doctor' time. And he was going to have fun. And he could mope around and miss her afterwards.

The TARDIS landed pretty smoothly, but it still made that reassuring noise that the Doctor loved. He opened the door, dressed in his swimming trunks and a beach towel, all ready to chill on the beach.

"Sun, sea and sand," he said to himself. "Just what I needed." He stepped out of the TARDIS.

He stepped out of the TARDIS onto a metal floor. His bare toes scrunched up, expecting sand.

"Not again!" he muttered, as he realised that his TARDIS had brought him to the wrong destination yet again. "Well, I might as well make the most of it, while I'm here. Hey, Donna-" He stopped. "She's gone, you fool."

He took in his surroundings. White metal. Futuristic decor. Some form of spaceship, obviously. He turned to go back into the TARDIS, find some more appropriate clothes and run a scan to find out where he was. It was gone. It just wasn't there. There was nothing in-between him and the white painted metal wall. He waved his hand through the air, and realised, with a sinking feeling in his stomach, that it really was just air, and his TARDIS really was gone.

"It's annoying when that happens, isn't it?" said a rather monotonous, depressing voice from behind him. He turned round to see an average sized robot (Although what counts as average? he thought. Well, it was shorter than him.). It had a large head and was the same spotless white as the ship.

"Where's my ship gone?" the Doctor cried frantically.

"I wouldn't know. I've got a brain the size of a planet, and they send me on common errands..."

"If you've got a brain the size of a planet you can tell me where my ship's gone!"

"I don't know. Brain the size of a planet, and I don't know." If the robot had been human, he would have drooped, but he was made of metal, so he didn't.

"It can't just have vanished. It can't have!" the Doctor panicked.

"Follow me," said the robot. His voice sounded even more depressed, if that was even possible.

The Doctor followed him through the ship.

"Seriously, what happened to my ship?" The robot ignored him, content (if he could ever be considered content) to mutter darkly to himself about how depressed he was.

"Oh Gods, another one," said a blonde man with more than one head.

"Another what?" asked a woman, her back to the Doctor and the robot.

"Another towel carrying lunatic."

"The correct term is hitchhiker," said another man, who only had the one head.

"I don't care! Do I look like a care? Why is he even my problem?"

"The ship picked him up," said the woman.

"Well, can we programme it not to?"

"No," said the woman, turning round. Then she jumped. "You have two heads."

"No I don't," said the first head.

"Yes I do," said the second. A third hand shot out of his stomach and slapped the first head.

"Improbability drive," said the other guy. "Who's the new kid?"

"The Doctor," said the Doctor, holding out his hand. He held up the towel with the other hand. The two headed man looked at the Doctor's hand as if he didn't know what to do with it. Which, thought the Doctor, he probably didn't. The other guy stepped forward instead.

"Ford Prefect," he said, shaking the Doctor's hand. "I see you are well prepared."

"Well prepared...?" said the Doctor, confused.

"You have your towel," said Ford.

"I'm Trillian," said the woman, not leaving the controls. "And that's Zaphod."

"Zaphod Beeblebrox, president of the galaxy," said one of the heads. "And this-" he waved his hands about impressively- "is the Heart Of Gold."

"And I'm Marvin, not that anybody cares," said the robot.

"Where's Arthur?" asked Trillian, glancing around. "He's the only other human on this ship, besides me and you," she said to the Doctor.

"Um... I'm no human," said the Doctor. "I'm a time lord, and my ship vanished when I landed on yours. And please pardon my attire, I was ready for the beach, but it seems there is no beach." He sounded disappointed.

"Never happy, are they?" muttered Marvin. "They're on the Heart Of Gold, and they still complain."

"Can someone please send that android off as scrap metal?" whined the president of the galaxy. "He's doing my heads in." As he said this, his second head disappeared.

"Your head," said the Doctor. "It's gone." He didn't sound shocked, or even afraid. Just a little bemused.

"Ah," said Zaphod. "Drat."

"Is two heads not enough for you?" asked Trillian, and the Doctor looked confused until the Betelgeusian president flipped his head back, revealing yet another one underneath.

"Some people only have one head," muttered Marvin.

"Hey, Marvin," said yet another man, entering the control room. This man looked rather ordinary, although he was wearing a dressing gown, which was a bit odd. Human, thought the Doctor.

"Yes, Arthur Dent?" said Marvin dully.

"Cheer up. Most of us only have one head."

"Arthur!" exclaimed Ford. "Meet the Doctor."

"Hello Doctor." They shook hands. Yep, definitely human, thought the Doctor.

"Would anybody like a pan-galactic gargle blaster?" asked Zaphod, breaking the awkward silence.

"Don't accept," warned Trillian. "You won't like it."

"Oh, won't I?" said the Doctor. He could never back down from a challenge.

"Don't say I didn't warn you," said Trillian, as Zaphod whipped out his third arm and began mixing two drinks.

"You know, I invented this," said Zaphod happily. The Doctor gulped, suddenly feeling a lot less confident. The president began mixing lots of interesting things in oddly shaped – and oddly coloured – bottles. The Doctor caught a glimpse of some of the labels. 'Ol' Janx Spirit'. 'Santraginus V Sea Water'. 'Fallian Marsh Gas'.

"This drink can't be mixed on Earth," piped up Arthur.

"Oh? Why?" asked the Doctor. He was breaking into a sweat.

"Environmental and weapons treaties," said Ford. That doesn't sound too good, thought the Doctor. "Oh, and the laws of physics of course."

The Doctor took the glass that Zaphod's third arm was offering him and studied it, a worried expression on his face. The liquid looked as if it was attempting to burn through the bottom of the glass.

"Drink up," said Zaphod, raising his glass and then downing it in one. He gave a slight shudder and then put the glass down. "Wonderful," he said with a grin. 

The Doctor attempted to do the same, but as the strange liquid slipped down his throat he let out a scream of pain. It felt as if his brain was being smashed out by a slice of lemon wrapped around a large gold brick.

"Aaaaagh!" he screamed, collapsing to the floor. The glass smashed.

"I suppose I'm going to have to clean that up," sighed Marvin.

Three days later, and the Doctor seemed to have fully recovered from his 'incident'. He sat up groggily, still in the same place he had collapsed.

"You've been out for three days," the shipboard computer, Eddie, informed him cheerfully. "Oh, and the improbability drive has been fixed and your little blue box is safely back where it landed."

"Ah, thanks," the Doctor said, rubbing his pounding head. "I appear to have a hangover..."

He said goodbye to everyone.

"You may wish to change into something a bit more... well, normal," said Trillian, as the Doctor realised with embarrassment that he was still only wearing his swimming trunks.

"And remember, always carry a towel," said Ford Prefect with a grin. The Doctor smiled back. He stepped into the TARDIS.

"So long, and thanks for all the fish," he said, giving a jaunty little wave.


End file.
